


Perfect

by SaruBaka (IfWallsCouldMuke)



Series: Red/Blue, who cares? [1]
Category: K (Anime)
Genre: (I haven't written for an anime fandom), (but y'know better than to believe that after like three paragraphs), (exclusively speaking of course since my last 5SOS fic was based off this fandom), (if any of you ever came across my other fics 'surprise ending' only has one meaning for me), (kinda), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Kink Negotiation, Lace Panties, M/M, Possibly Unrequited Love, Strain Interference, Surprise Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 21:58:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18455426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IfWallsCouldMuke/pseuds/SaruBaka
Summary: “I never forgot your promise, after all,” Misaki whispers against his lips, words barely audible despite their closeness.“Who knew.”“Who knew.”





	Perfect

**Author's Note:**

> My debut fic of sorts for anime-exclusive pseud is my newfound favourite, K (Project) due to so many reasons. And you know that feeling, you hear a song, and you listen to it over and over again without being bored. The writer in you goes "that's it, I gotta write a fic" but never found the perfect pairing?
> 
> heh.

_I found the One for me,_  
Darling, just dive right in  
follow my lead.

Maybe finding Misaki was the only reason Saruhiko entered this world. After all, his birthday is after his idiot’s. He doesn’t know how the time went by before he found his Misaki.

In middle school, they were so young, so naïve. He didn’t know much about how the whole _crushing_ thing works, and he kissed Misaki out of desperation. The blush following their first kiss was so cute, Saruhiko vowed then.

He’ll make Misaki his for rest of their lives together.

 

And reality, like they say, is a bitch.

 

///

 

“What’s wrong, Misaki?” Saruhiko plays with the knife in his hand, not sure if two knives are enough to detain the fiery-tempered Red Clan vanguard. “It seems you’re a little… tied up.”

“Stupid Monkey,” Misaki has a faint blush on his cheeks, his eyes defiant. “There’s no need for violence.”

“But I just wanted to talk,” Saruhiko lies, sheathing the knife in its hiding place. “After all, you get frisky if I visit you at your apartment.”

“It’s not _visiting,_ how many times do I have to tell you?” Misaki struggles, the magic-imbued blades refusing to move. “They know you’re bothering me, and once I’m freed, I’m going to kill you.”

“Aw, I love when you talk dirty to me,” he catches the unmistakable gasp when he starts walking towards him. “What else would you do anyways?”

“Saru…”

The yearning, the hope, everything Saruhiko feels are the last thing he sees in Misaki’s eyes before his vision starts to blur. He crashes to his knees, his heartbeat spiking as he glances up, his knives falling from the wall.

One end points at him.

The other, Misaki.

“What’s happening?” the blackness claims him, leaving him unsure if he heard Misaki before he passes out.

 

 

When he comes to, he can feel his magic unwilling to obey him, his wrists bound. He’s certain he woke up due to someone yelling merely a metre away from him.

“You bastards! Witless fools! Cowardice doesn’t look good on you!” Misaki bellows, red aura surrounding him despite his handcuffs.

“Looks like we both got sucker punched,” Saruhiko can’t understand why his legs are so free, but he approaches Misaki regardless. “Your lips are cut open.”

He isn’t imagining the blush when he licks the blood from the wounds, the clatter of Misaki’s chain the only telling of the shorter boy’s flustered state. “Did you see who abducted us?”

“The Colourless King is still yet to be reappointed,” Saruhiko voices his only possibility. “Scepter 4 was alerted there was unauthorised breach in the territories.”

“That’s what Anna saw as well,” Misaki makes a face Saruhiko hasn’t seen in months, so before he can decipher it, his favourite brunet slings his chain, which is connecting his handcuffs, to place Saruhiko’s torso in its arc.

And their lips meet in an awkward angle for a kiss.

Heat surges from Saruhiko’s body, and he isn’t so sure if that’s his hormones or his magic. He feels the same kind of heat radiating from Misaki, and he guesses what that expression meant.

“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” Misaki smirks, their handcuffs now loosened from the heat. “They took your coat, so your knives are with their security room. Judging from the lack of a guard here, I say our abductor is on their own.”

Saruhiko blinks, dumbfounded. Misaki uses the heat to melt the bars completely.

“That was the worst foreplay I ever had anyways,” he shakes his head, following the Red vanguard as the sirens start to blare.

 

They twist and turn into different staircases and corridors, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out there’s a space-time interjection happening in this building. Misaki managed to find his skateboard with the Red Insignia in the meantime. He’s antsy from not knowing where the coat is.

(He’ll admit Munakata is strict about how often he’ll give his Clansmen replacement uniform pieces. He already has a hard to finding his size for his vest due to the plethora of thin people compromising this Clan.)

“You have a few hundreds of replacement knifes in your dorm room anyways,” Misaki looks out the window, finding the same scenery they’ve been subjected to for last hour or so. “We need to find the person behind this.”

“Or I’ll find you.”

It’s instinct how Saruhiko reaches for his knife, cursing when he realises he’s pretty much naked. He ignites tiny flames on his fingertips instead. Turning around, he throws one.

“Ah, Fushimi-kun,” the newcomer claps slowly, sounding way too amused for Saruhiko’s liking. “I heard so many good things… as for you, Yatagarasu…”

They both telegraph the same message to each other like they used to, but they’re too late for that.

“You know how this works,” the Strain, presumably hired by the Colourless King claps their hands mirthlessly. “Don’t you?”

“I’m trying to see if this is a time-limit thing or the keyword thing,” Misaki drops his skateboard. Saruhiko hopes the Strain will take that as a sign of surrender.

“And why’s that?”

Saruhiko and Misaki grin at the same time, his knife already out of its hidden place no one can ever guess. The Strain realises their mistake the moment his knife sinks deep into the idiot’s skull.

“I’ll kill you as soon as we get out of this place if it’s a keyword,” Misaki promises.

“Pretty sure we can figure out the keyword,” Saruhiko follows Misaki towards the first door they see.

 

///

 

“We filed in so many reports!” Hidaka complains in lieu of a greeting. “You were missing for seventy-two hours plus! Munakata-san was complaining about finding the person to replace you.”

“Rest assured, I’m alive and pissed off,” Saruhiko turns around to greet the Blue King. “As you can perfectly see.”

“Seventy-two hours, Fushimi-kun,” Munakata reminds him. “That’s long enough for the quickest curse to kill even the strongest if cast by a powerful Strain.”

“Yeah, the Strain decided to have fun by locking me up,” Saruhiko spares the details. “Doesn’t this count as one of the occasions I can use unpaid short leave?”

“I don’t see you half-beaten to death,” Munakata snickers. “You can have rest of today and however long it takes for you tomorrow to recollect yourself.”

 

Saruhiko swings by his dorm to get changed into ¾-sleeve red knit sweatshirt and a pair smooth, almost seamless white slacks, completing his look with black flats. Since the glasses he wore to the little border scuffle the other day is bloodied and cracked, he replaces it with the second pair he got a few weeks ago.

 

“This is breaking and entering, how many times do I have to tell you, stupid Saru?” Misaki squeaks when Saruhiko forces the bathroom door open. “As you can clearly see, I’m busy here!”

“Cleary,” he lets go of the door, letting Misaki get dressed.

“What brings you here unannounced?” Misaki’s entire face is red, wearing a blue tank top and—

 _Oh_.

“It’s not what you think!” the blush says _it is_. “A friend… left it here?”

“You have a lace kink,” the pair of panties in question is a shade of blue he’s vaguely familiar with.

“I have—”

Saruhiko blames Misaki wholly for his next set of actions. The flurry of movements lands them both on the bathroom floor with a heavy impact. He growls against Misaki’s lips, the primal side of him unlocked from various images racing in his dirty mind.

 

 _We were just kids when we fell in love_  
not knowing what it was,  
I will not give you up this time.

 

The kiss is less hurried, but still has the same impact their fall left. He can feel Misaki’s heat, physical and magical. He doesn’t know who’s taking breath from whom, or if he’ll ever wake up from this dream he knows better than to realise.

“Saru…” Misaki’s voice is raspier than he recalls, the heat scorching, but Saruhiko will gladly be burnt if this is the last thing he’ll feel. “I… I just…”

“Do you want me to stop?” Saruhiko fixes his gaze on Misaki’s eyes, knees bent on either side of Misaki’s hips, elbows resting against his heated arms.

“I don’t know how to stop if we don’t right now…” Misaki sounds uncertain, so _lost_ , and he sees confusion and hope dancing in the twin hazels.

“Who says we have to stop?”

“You… betrayed me…” tears well up.

 _But you don’t know why you still can’t get rid of the love you harbour for me, for us_ , Saruhiko reads Misaki’s thoughts easily.

They kiss until their lips get tired, mingled tear tracks drying on their smile-frozen faces.

“Thank you…” is the last thing Saruhiko is remembers before sleep overrides his wakefulness.

 

The fallout isn’t easy.

He doesn’t recognise the flaming red sheets or the pillows at first. He reaches for the first knife just in time of his brains to make out he’s in Misaki’s place. The comforting heat should be enough, and he snuggles closer to his Misaki.

“Stupid…” Misaki groans, sharing Saruhiko’s thoughts.

“Let me enjoy this before you call me a traitor,” Saruhiko claims Misaki’s smiling lips.

“That would be lying to myself,” Misaki rolls on top of Saruhiko, a treat he won’t deny or return to the sender. “I was calling you a traitor because I thought you betrayed HOMRA.”

“Just let me kiss you, talk later,” Saruhiko demands.

Morning sex wasn’t in his mind when he asked for a short unpaid leave, but it sure is on Misaki’s. Reckless ideas are Misaki’s favourite things to do, and as long as he’s beside his favourite idiot, it’s Saruhiko’s as well.

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” Misaki complains, ripping the buttons off Saruhiko’s slacks.

“Excuse me for being a civil—hey!” Saruhiko yelps in pain when Misaki bites his neck. “What happened to—”

“I only had my fingers and vibrators for past torturous year or so, cut me some slack,” Saruhiko does as Misaki wishes, not commenting on the obvious blush mottling his shoulders.

Patience was not a virtue, and Saruhiko insists Misaki keeps the panties on.

“Pervert,” Misaki mumbles, fully taking advantage of the fact that Saruhiko is laving his nipple. He delivers small rebuttal in form of biting on the small nub.

“You’re soaking just from nipple play, Misaki~” he pushes the barely-there lace to rub his slit against the other’s perineum. “Why do you have these to start with?”

“It was for your 19th birthday,” Misaki’s heat is different this time. “A gag gift, if you will…”

“You bought those _way_ in advance,” Saruhiko guesses, pushing just the head in, delighting in the sharp gasp. “You call me a pervert, but you’re a slutty, slutty boy, aren’t you?”

If Misaki wanted to say something, Saruhiko will never hear it, absorbed by a kiss. He uses the momentary distraction to slam rest of the way in, the answering clench exciting him. He gets drunk off of the stifled moans and the way he trembles from the force of the thrusts. Misaki is right on one thing and that is the question of Saruhiko being a pervert. He never heard sounds more beautiful than the whimpers, drawn out ‘Saru’ every time he deliberately ignores Misaki’s prostate. He isn’t so sure if the heat he feels is Misaki’s or theirs combined.

“Saru,” nasal and ragged, Misaki sounds like the definition of _needy_ and _desperate. “_ I need…”

“Hm?” Saruhiko halts into a slow grind.

“Stupid monkey!” Saruhiko swallows any other half-assed accusations with another kiss. “Mmf!”

“You’re so full of fire,” he tugs at Misaki’s nipple, triggering his climax. “And I need it to melt it all away from me.”

If he moaned Misaki’s name when he comes soon after, he has no regrets.

 

///

 

“I thought you had a night shift,” Misaki scratches at the back of his head in lieu of embarrassing pillow talk.

“I’m the third-in-command, I don’t need some assholes above me in hierarchy telling me how to spend my impromptu sexcapade,” Saruhiko scoffs, using his handkerchief to wipe the mess he’s the culprit of. “It was the keyword.”

“What?”

“The Strain who abducted us,” dread crashes down hard on them both. “That’s why they were not eager to defend themself.”

“Time-limited abilities will dissipate when the user is dead,” Misaki curses. “But the keyword… the affects aren’t bound to the user since the root is bound to the victims, not the user…”

“What was the keyword though?”

“Us getting out was a trick, an illusion,” Misaki’s face is redder than ever. “It’s something we said last night.”

“Care to be a bit more precise?” Saruhiko pushes his glasses up. “You said more than a few interesting things last night.”

“Stupid monkey,” there’s no usual bite to his words. “The keyword isn’t the point when we don’t know what the powers made us do.”

 _You know the keyword, I know the powers,_ Saruhiko takes Misaki’s left hand, kissing the knuckles.

“Does it matter? You can kick me out of your apartment now.” _But that’s not what either of us want._ “I asked you to—”

“You finally understood,” Misaki’s blush is unmistakable. “I understand you betrayed me as a revenge of sorts. But last night…” The hazel-coloured eyes that once knew joy and love around Saruhiko, they’re filled with self-doubt and lost hope. “You asked me to ‘melt it all away.’”

“That was my keyword,” Saruhiko knows there’s more to this.

“The Strain’s powers… the ability to draw out the words we hid from each other so long… that was not the Colourless King’s test.”

His words are muffled by a shirt thrown in his way. He peels it away from his face and gets rewarded by the sight of Misaki’s ass in the air.

“I’m headed out,” Misaki announces. “You can stay here and jerk off like the pervert you are, or fuck off to anywhere you please.”

“This is my shirt,” Saruhiko notices the shirt is his size. “You didn’t throw it out?”

“I like wearing it to bed,” another garment is thrown at him, no doubt to hide the fact that the smaller boy is blushing crazily.

“Kinky…”

 

///

 

_Well, I found a man, stronger than anyone I know,  
he shares my dreams, I hope one day, I’ll share his home._

Saruhiko ignores the questioning murmurs and gazes as he storms his way through HOMRA bar. He ignores the amused look the barkeep has on his face.

“Yata-san is busy,” he raises the glass he was cleaning, placing it in one of the cabinets. “If you want some drink…”

“I’ll settle down with the strongest you got.”

_And drown myself in sorrow while I’m at it._

 

Saruhiko was never a social person. Only two people he has a decent conversation with are his Misaki and his asshole Captain, Munakata. He’s not an idiot. He knows that the Captain of Scepter 4, the Blue King, has a nightly habit of sneaking down from his quarters and his magic traces all the way here.

 _Looks like even the icy Blue King is immune to Mikoto-san’s charms,_ buzzed, he hears the cluster of voices mixing into a lulling sound he fights to stay awake. He can make out a trilling voice he can barely recognize as Anna’s.

 _Why am I so weak_ , he berates himself. _When it comes to you, Misaki?_

“You have the guts to call me an idiot when you get piss-drunk in the enemy territory. Heart of it, even,” the haze is strong, but he can never miss Misaki’s annoyed voice. “Care to explain?”

“I’m a man of business,” Saruhiko squints one eye, able to see Misaki’s clenched fist flickering with ghostly red sparks. “And he told me to bill his Captain, so no harm done.”

He thinks he heard something about Mikoto-san not liking this entire fiasco before he succumbs to the bitchy void.

 

“Oi,” Saruhiko wants to blink this unpleasant feeling away, but a cold rag keeps him from doing exactly that. “I had someone with First Aid to look at you. You were burning.”

“I don’t have the red aura anymore,” he shakes the rag off. “Where am I?”

“I do have my own room, idiot,” Misaki’s knees dig into his sides. “It’s _right below Mikoto-san’s_.”

“What’s that gotta do with me?” anger flares bright and jealously.

“Above all people, you know what that means,” Misaki’s tone is muted, like he doesn’t want his King to find out they’re discussing something.

“Oh,” Saruhiko feels dumbfounded. “How long?”

“Hard to tell,” Misaki toys with the hem of his shirt, his abs exposed. “I noticed it when I moved into this room when they decided to promote me as their vanguard. Kusanagi-san and Mikoto-san, I mean. I stay here only if there’s an imminent threat but…”

“This is a great blackmail material,” Saruhiko lets out a small _heh_.

“You want to discuss about that, by the way?”

The tone leaves no other explanation to what _that_ refers to.

“I’m an adult, with adult problems,” he deflects the question.

“Your keyword was telling me… you wish to start anew,” Misaki’s eyes, though Saruhiko have seen all the emotions imaginable in them, this one he sees… this _single_ emotion lashing out with unspoken accusation…

“I was wrong,” he raises a hand out of habit, and when he cups Misaki’s small face and thumbs the tear away, he knows how to get Misaki to say his share of keyword. “I thought I betrayed you because I thought you betrayed me first… when in reality…”

Saruhiko, ever the silver-tongued knife-wielder, is lost at words when he admits the only thing that kept him sane.

“When it reality, I didn’t want to lose you,” he breathes against the soft, featherlike gentleness of Misaki’s lips. “We were young and reckless.”

The flaring red aura isn’t from detecting a threat, he knows how to read Misaki better than that.

“I don’t think you like the idea of having two keywords while I have only one,” Misaki, _his_ stupid Misaki, brushes their lips before his part of the confession. “I miss you—I miss _us_ … and I don’t want to be apart from you ever again.”

Their following kiss is sweet despite their tears, his blue aura flickering to match Misaki’s red in a dance. He can’t remember the last time he felt alive. And he’s quick to aid Misaki with getting rid of clothes.

“I hear orgasms cure hangovers,” Misaki states innocently.

“And you aren’t wearing your lace,” he replies smugly, the smugness doubled by the faint blush spreading across Misaki’s face. “What?”

“Wait for your next birthday if you’re so desperate,” the Red vanguard grinds his ass against his dick in retribution.

“If you wish to nurse me whilst having a hangover,” Saruhiko uses the fragment of the blue aura surround him to freeze a restraint of sorts around Misaki’s wrists. “At least get on with it?”

He’ll admit not having any hangovers, but the determined look in Misaki’s warm hazel eyes are more than worth it by the time they’re too orgasm-worn out to move.

“I love you, you stupid monkey,” Misaki reaffirms. “Only I get to see you like this?”

“Naked?”

“Without your façade,” Saruhiko grins. “I know the real you, Saru.”

 

///

 

“I think this is a terrible idea.”

“You say _everything we do_ is a terrible idea,” Misaki groans.

“When am I ever wrong?” Saruhiko presses just as the door of the Scepter 4 Captain’s quarters open.

“Well, I wasn’t expecting this,” the Red King smirks down at them both. “Care to explain why your… weapon master is here with my vanguard, Reisi?”

“I think it goes the other way around, as I wasn’t expecting Fushimi-kun at _all_ ,” the Blue King shrugs, though his gaze lingers in Misaki’s direction. “I suspect they… what’s the term… _kissed and made up_.”

“Lots of kissing was involved, that much I can tell,” Mikoto-san’s accusatory finger flicks against the prominent mark on Saruhiko’s neck. “This one reminds me of you when we were in high school.”

“I recall having more control,” instead of deflection, Munakata invites all three of them for a closed-door discussion. “He heard the commotion. I can’t say I’m surprised you found out, Fushimi-kun.”

“You should hire a weapon master who doesn’t fall asleep until 3am if you wish to be sneaky,” Saruhiko takes his usual seat. “Ah, now that I know your dirty secret, I can figure out what the secret button I found the other night is for.”

“Don’t say sex dungeon, you pervert,” Saruhiko reads the expression Misaki glares in his way.

“It’s more comfortable than most,” Mikoto-san’s reply isn’t good for dispelling anything from his imagination. “Wouldn’t you agree, Reisi?”

_I’m re-evaluating my life._

“What brings Yatagarasu to my very room, Fushimi-kun? It’s only open for business and… well… you know now,” Munakata looks pleased, like a cat well-fed.

“Considering the Strain managed to capture both me and Misaki… they pose a threat to us,” Saruhiko laces his fingers with Misaki’s under the desk. “They were strong enough to cast a space-time illusion, and we were bound to their powers even after their death.”

“You want me to question them.”

“This is too boring…” Mikoto-san scoffs, turning in the leather sofa.

“I’m promising you fun times after I kick them out, Mikoto, stop being a spoiled brat,” Munakata sighs.

“Need I remind you how needy you were—”

Saruhiko barely has a second to blink when the Blue King’s full-strength shield ejects him from the room with Misaki in tow.

“That was unpleasant,” Misaki lifts his skateboard. “And he owes me a new skateboard.”

“It’s just a crack,” Saruhiko takes Misaki into his arms. “Paint over it.”

“Shut up, stupid monkey,” Saruhiko smirks when Misaki hides his face in his chest to smother himself out of blushing.

“So cute,” he leads Misaki down many staircases before reaching the hub. “Though…”

He drops one of his knives _accidentally_ , giving him a perfect excuse to get down on one knee, the knife holding a ring.

“Wh-what are you doing, monkey?” If Saruhiko saw anyone blush harder than this, they’re probably dead by now. “Y-you… there are people around?”

“I wasted too long to realize I was wrong, and only a fool would ever imagine a time without you…” Saruhiko hears a throng of people, mostly those under his authority in his squad, and he hears something about bets from unidentified voices. “Marry me, and make me the happiest, stupidest monkey, Misaki.”

“Of all places, you chose Scepter 4 to propose to me,” the redness somehow got darker. He can barely understand Misaki’s words above his blood drumming in his ears. “That does make you the stupidest monkey.”

Saruhiko’s breath hitches when Misaki takes the knife, studying the blade.

“You’re such a tease,” is the last thing he mumbles against Misaki’s lips before they seal the confirmation, a round of applause and whistling filling the foyer.

“I never forgot your promise, after all,” Misaki whispers against his lips, words barely audible despite their closeness. “Who knew.”

“ _Who knew_.”

 

_“Hey, Saru… what if… when we’re older than we’ve been in love for years and realize we can’t be happier with somebody else…” the twelve-year-old Misaki stopped nibbling on his crepe, a sign of concentration._

_“I already love you, stupid Misaki,” the twelve-year-old Saruhiko stole a bite, and pecked his Misaki’s nose. “There’s no one else I want to spend the rest of my life with.”_

_Now I know I’ve met an angel in person_  
and he looks so perfect,  
I don’t deserve this,  
you look perfect tonight.

**Author's Note:**

> What's my favourite pairing besides Sarumi?
> 
> Funny you should ask.


End file.
